Misunderstood Quell
by XxNoxAeternaxX
Summary: No one knows what happened in this first Quarter Quell. The victor would have been alive for Katniss's storyline. People say he was killed by the Capitol, which a good assumption. But nothing is ever as it seems. This is the Story of what really happened in the 25th Hunger Games.
1. Prologue

Millions died within days, thanks to the Capital. Whole families just burned to death in their own houses with every single bomb dropped in the districts. From one to thirteen, rebels dropped like flies. The Dark Days were a scary time for everyone- no matter what district you were from. Innocent citizens, suffering the horrible stings of tracker jackers. Jabberjays spoiling the rebels' every plan. No one gave up though- everyone knew the capital had its weaknesses somewhere. The fight for freedom would never end; no matter what happened, no matter who died, and no matter who suffered. Districts thought they might have a chance, but everything changed when _it _happened.

Footage of A deadland covered the television screens all across Panem. The districts gasped in shock, the Capital cheered and celebrated their victory. District 13 was gone. The center of the rebellion- obliterated and blasted off the face of the earth. Rebellion was over, and now the Capital had its chance to make us regret our fight for freedom. Even worse, they do it for their own entertainment.

23 kids die in every Hunger Games. What are The Hunger Games? They're a bloody war of survival. It's all to entertain those brain-dead Capital Citizens. There has been 24 Games so far, each more horrifying than the last. We're all forced to watch, and go through the pain of the Reaping every year from age 12 to age 18.

That's not even the worst of it- my District is sicker than the rest. They are the favorite of the Capital. Yes, I'm from District 2. Career Tributes sent in every year. We've had the most winners in the Games since they started. And I'm a work of this bloody system.

I'm a full blooded Career- thick headed and pompous, a total show-off and skilled in almost everything. Or so my District believes I am. I'm Spark, a fifteen year old from District 2, and this is my story.


	2. Chapter 1

As of right now, there are two days before the 25th Hunger Games Reaping. The parents of my generation- the ones who were children and teenagers during the Dark Days and the first ever Hunger Games, seem to be very jittery. Everyone else is just as usual for the Reaping nearing up. The 18 year-olds are training harder than ever, and all of us younger-staged careers are off school and training until the games are over. I sometimes enjoy my training, since being the top of my age definitely has its perks, but it really sickens me that people will actually train to kill just for fame.

I clean off the table from dinner as my cousin arrives home from his last day of volunteer training. "Hey, Sparky!" he shouts from the front door. I rush over to him, curious to what he wants me for.

"What's up, Craig?" I ask him. He usually doesn't even bother noticing I'm here. I've been an invasion to his way of life since I was orphaned at the age of 3. I live with him and his mother, who was my father's sister. They were executed for proof of them being part of the rebel force's few remaining spies. I'm nothing like them though; I'm just another amazingly-gifted Career in training. At least that's what society tells me.

"There's a special announcement from the Capitol airing in 5 minutes! Turn on the television, will ya?" he commands me, dropping his bag on the floor and going to get a glass of water.

I roll my eyes at him behind his back; I knew it wasn't anything worthwhile. I have some sort of psychic ability where I can I can sense their emotions and thoughts. Not mind reading, though, it's just a slight sensing of them. I got this ability only because of my arrogant father, who tried using me as a shield when the Peacekeepers rang to taser and arrest him and my mother. That electric shock caused a Spark in my brain, causing this. Even before that though, my name was Spark. I grab the TV remote and turn on the screen as I plop down on the couch. Craig comes and sits as far from me as possible, though all his focus is on the screen.

President Snow appears on our screen, along with every screen across Panem. He is holding a wooden box, smiling as the Anthem plays. When the Anthem stops, he clears his throat.

"Hello citizens, and welcome to the first ever Quarter Quell!" you can hear the cheers of the Capitol people as he speaks, but all I am wondering is what the bloody hell a 'Quarter Quell' is. I feel Craig is thinking the same thing, which has me worried. "Every 25 years, it is set that the Hunger Games will have a twist to make that year's Games more... insteresting." I am shocked and so is Craig. We never knew about this- no one our age did. Only the people who were there when the games started would have known!

He pulls a slightly yellow-tinted envelope out of the wooden box. He opens the envelope carefully, and then reads off what it says with an slightly-evil grin across his pale face. "As a reminder to everyone in the districts that they were the ones whose rebellion led to violence, this year each district shall vote for who will be the tributes from their district."

I can feel that everyone across the nation is stunned. Everyone takes part in this game no matter what - choosing who will be in the Games and go face to face with death, or actually facing death.


	3. Chapter 2

The shock has still lasted through the night and onto the morning. My Aunt arrived home right after the broadcast of the big news. Craig yelled at her about not informing him about the 'Quarter Quell'. Honestly, I don't know why he's complaining. He'll get voted for definitely now- no need for volunteering. He can't volunteer now anyways, they won't let anyone for these Games.

Right after Breakfast today, we have to go vote for the 'lucky' girl and guy to go in the Games. I wake up earlier than usual, put on a pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt, and messily fix my blonde hair to perfection. I then go to the kitchen and grab the pathetic leftovers that I get for every single meal and sit down at the table, farthest away from Craig. When he finishes eating he says, "You better vote for me, I've wanted this longer than anyone else." I roll my eyes; of course I was going to vote for him. I wouldn't want anyone but him to suffer the pain of the Games. Question was, who would I vote for as the girl tribute? A list of girls haunt my brain as I clean up breakfast and make my way to the Town Square to vote. They check me in, and hand me two slips of paper and a pen. On one, I write "Craig Hollins" and the other I write "Holli Kirstoph". She's my cousin's girlfriend, just as pure-blooded Career as Craig. I then walk home and sleep for the rest of the day, not caring what Craig or my Aunt wishes for me to do. Tomorrow's going to be a big day for Craig.

Today's the day of the reaping. I get up and put on my reaping day outfit; a black shirt, a pair of black jeans, black shoes, and a white tie I was left when my father died. I fix my hair a little bit neater than usual. I go to the kitchen, and realize Craig and my Aunt are already gone. I guess I woke up a little bit late. I rush to the Town square, get checked in, and file in with the others my age to watch the names get chosen.

It's about 15 minutes before the reaping gets started. I let out an impatient sigh as the escort to district 2 makes her way to the podium holding two gold envelopes. She leans into the microphone, smiling. "Good morning, District two!" She beams and holds up one of the envelopes. "Ladies first, as always." She slowly opened it and read the name aloud, "Jasmica Marstonn!" She glances around the town square looking for someone to step forward. Finally, a girl who looks about 16 nervously steps onto the stage. Her brother was a victor a few years ago, I know this because he used to be one of the few people I'd consider to be my true friends. The games changed him a lot, though. I haven't talked to him since.

"And now for the Gentlemen…" she says, holding up the other envelope. I'm as sure as hell it's going to be Craig, and if not him, some other cocky 18 year old. The escort opens the envelope and reads of the name of the guy who will be in the 25th Hunger Games. "Spark Kallski!"

I stand in shock for almost a minute, but it feels like hours, maybe even days. The crowd is going wild, both in rage and in excitement. The guy next to me pushes me into the isle, and I get lead by the peacekeepers to the stage. The Escort smiles brightly at me, and then tells me to shake hands with the girl tribute. I do so, and after the Escort holds our arms in the air and shouts the the crowd "And here are your tributes!" The shock wears off, and I realize what has just happened.

I'm in the 25th Hunger Games.


End file.
